Stolen Goods 4
Anyone who inherits the title of Shintu cannot simply hand something over to another person in the ordinary way—they must steal it.
That was why, after she had bought food for the artisans of the Heavenly Silk she had stolen in her master’s stead and delivered it to them, the first thought that floated into Young-ryeon’s head was whether the two ducks she had prepared earlier might not be enough.
If they ran short her master would simply steal more, of course, but it was still better to avoid petty theft from ordinary folk. Young-ryeon herself never much liked stealing from the poor. So she obtained two more ducks and a couple of extra bottles of wine and set out for the old tree where Elder Geolhwang was lodging.
By the time she arrived, empty bottles already littered the ground around the two men—proof that they had already stolen whatever wine they lacked. Her master, thoroughly flushed with drink, called out to her just as she was quietly setting down the ducks and wine and turning to leave.
“Young-ryeon, come here a moment.”
“Is there something you wish to say, Master?”
“Mm. Yes. How would you like to pay a little visit to the Sacheon Tang Clan?”
“The Tang Clan, Master?”
Out of nowhere her master was sending her to the greatest of the great houses in all of Sichuan. Wondering what errand this might be, Young-ryeon tilted her head and looked at him. He smiled with genuine pleasure.
“That’s right. Deliver a letter from Shintu to the Tang Clan and come back.”
“To the Tang Clan!?”
Her eyes went round at the order. Ever since she had become his disciple she had never once been sent to deliver a letter to a great house like the Tang Clan. Her heart began to thud. The thought of scaling the walls of one of the Seven Great Clans of the Central Plains alongside her master made her pulse race with anticipation.
This was no matter of lifting a few coins from commoners. She was being sent to steal something from one of the foremost houses of the Central Plains—one of the Seven Great Clans. Of course her heart was pounding. Ordinary folk and the poor she could take or leave, but a grand mansion of the wealthy? That was the kind of job Young-ryeon liked. Slipping past the dogs and the guards was thrillingly close work, and she was curious to see what one of the Seven Great Clans even looked like from the inside.
“Understood, Master! What shall I write in the letter?”
“Write that we are coming to fetch—no, to steal—the young hero Wi So-ryong, the Tang Clan’s live-in son-in-law. As for information on the Tang Clan, Elder Geolhwang has already asked the Sichuan branch of the Beggar’s Sect to prepare it. Go there, read it, and burn it.”
Young-ryeon locked every word away in her mind and answered at once.
“Yes, Master. This disciple will deliver the letter to the Tang Clan tonight and return.”
She clasped her fists in salute and turned to go. Her master’s voice followed her, striking the back of her head.
“And that young hero Wi So-ryong—you will steal him alone.”
“!”
Her eyes flew wide. Certain she had misheard, she spun around.
“A-alone, Master?”
She stared at him in disbelief. The smile still had not left his face.
“Yes. How long do you intend to move only at my side or run petty errands? You have already mastered eight-tenths of our school’s martial arts. In the name of Shintu, you will handle this matter by yourself.
Here—Heavenly Silk. For this one job I am entrusting you with both the name and the sacred treasure. Do well.”
“I-in the name of Shintu!? And the sacred treasure as well!?”
Young-ryeon’s hands trembled as she accepted the coil of silk he held out to her. To receive both the name of Shintu and the sacred treasure meant that, for the duration of this task at least, she would not be the disciple of Shintu—she would be Shintu. He had not said he was fully bestowing the title upon her, but he was telling her that he now trusted her enough to let her work alone. That was why her hands would not stop shaking.
“I-I understand! This disciple will never give Master cause for disappointment!”
“Good. Do well. If by chance the Sullgi is raised… no. No need for useless talk. Just be a little careful of Mandok Singun. Two days should be enough, yes?”
“Of course, Master!”
She dropped to her knees, performed a deep formal bow, and left. Her master’s laughter drifted after her.
“Heh-heh. If I’d known she’d be this happy I would have sent her sooner. As always, Elder Brother’s words were right.”
“Of course they were, you rascal. Do you think I’ve raised only one or two disciples? By the way, you still keep that Heavenly Silk wound inside your under-robe, don’t you?”
“I do. Always wrapped around both arms.”
“If you wrap it, even insects can’t bite through it, right?”
“Insects? It’s sword-and-blade-proof. Why ask?”
“No reason. Let’s just drink more. You even brought ducks. You’ve raised a fine disciple.”
The conversation behind her seemed of no great importance, so Young-ryeon left her master and raced toward the Sichuan branch of the Beggar’s Sect on light-footwork.
—Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp.
Night had fallen and the moon was hidden behind clouds, leaving the summit of Tang Family Mountain in deep darkness. Having thoroughly memorized the materials obtained from the Beggar’s Sect, Young-ryeon employed Shintu’s Shadowless Silent Body Art and alighted atop the peak that overlooked the Tang Clan’s courtyard mansions. The art erased both shadow and sound; not a soul noticed her approach from the rear of the mountain—not the owls in the trees, not even the rats along the path.
She had chosen this spot because it offered the clearest view of the courtyard complex used by the direct line of the Tang Clan, and because it was an excellent place from which to loose an arrow. Looking down from the summit, the Tang Clan’s courtyards appeared no larger than fists far below.
Hoo… I can do this.
She had fired many letters alone before, yet tonight her heart trembled more than usual—probably because she truly was alone. Young-ryeon drew a deep breath and steadied herself. Then she raised the Hundred-Li Eyes that could bring distant things near and fixed her gaze on the base of the mountain.
Moments later the chestnut-sized courtyards swelled in her vision until the open window of the live-in son-in-law’s quarters filled her sight completely.
—Thrummm.
The bowstring of the Thousand-Li Bow sang as she drew it.
—Ssshing!
She released her fingers. With a clean, exhilarating note the arrow streaked across the night sky and vanished through the target window in an instant.
Then it happened. A woman poked her head out of the window of the Tang Clan’s live-in son-in-law’s quarters and shouted something; another woman came racing out of the building.
—Wheeeee!
A warning whistle split the night sky. Warriors carrying torches poured along the paths like inner energy racing through meridians and converged on the courtyards. The speed of the response, the systematic precision with which they gathered—Young-ryeon’s heart hammered with a thrill she had never felt among the small houses she had visited before.
“As expected… this is the Sacheon Tang Clan!”
She could not help wondering how exhilarating it would feel to force her way through that place with everything she had. When Shintu’s letter was delivered, the ordinary practice—except in the houses of commoners who needed no letter—was for the target to leave the item in a convenient place for the taking. Young-ryeon had therefore never once had to infiltrate a house at full power and carry something out. Even when she occasionally had to dodge guards in a somewhat larger scholar-official’s residence, there had been no real excitement in it.
Yet that surge of expectation lasted only a moment. Contrary to their earlier rush, the warriors began to disperse at a leisurely pace.
“Ah…”
Only then did reason return. She had been so excited at receiving the name of Shintu and the sacred treasure that she had gotten carried away. Looking at the warriors calmly melting away, she realized the truth. The renown of the previous generations of Shintu was so great that even the Tang Clan would not bother trying to stop her. If they simply left the item out, they might one day receive Shintu’s help; there was no reason to lose the item and forfeit that possibility as well. From the way they were acting, they would no doubt prepare the little son-in-law so that he would be easy to take.
And so her excitement cooled.
“Well… I’ll just take meaning from the fact that I’m doing this alone.”
She told herself that carrying the name and the treasure and working alone was meaning enough, and started to turn away. Then a sound cut clearly through the night sky even across the great distance.
—Flap!
She looked toward the sound. Suddenly banners had been raised above the Clan Lord’s Hall and what appeared to be the Nine Formation Gate. As the moon emerged she raised the Hundred-Li Eyes again and examined the banners. On each was painted a pair of fierce dogs facing each other—one above the Clan Lord’s Hall, one above the Nine Formation Gate.
“T-the Sullgi!”
A shiver raced from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Fire lit in Young-ryeon’s eyes the moment she faced a Sullgi for the first time; competitive spirit surged in her chest. Petty theft had never appealed to her, but slipping through that kind of tight security was something she had always longed to do. And she remembered that her master had mentioned the Sullgi when he sent her here.
So that’s why Master told me to go alone!
He must have known things would turn out this way. He must have wanted to test, through the Tang Clan, how far her training had come.
“Whether you’re Wi So-ryong or Dog So-ryong, just wait. I will steal you for certain!”
Young-ryeon clenched her fists, looked down at the Tang Clan, and smiled.
The next day we decided to make a few preparations with the family. Since the Sullgi had been raised, the thief would come with everything he had. We intended to prepare a few surprises of our own.
First, Cho would wait high in the sky; the moment she spotted the thief she would keep following and mark the position for everyone. No matter how agile a thief might be, a centipede can sense temperature. Having infrared vision was essentially the same thing, so finding him from the night sky would be easy.
“Cho, you wait in the sky. When you see the thief, keep following him, okay? Absolutely no spraying poison. He’s a bad person, but he’s not a bad person, you know?”
—Churr?
“Ugh, how do I explain this… Ah! He’s a bad person, but we’re catching him alive. If he dies we can’t punish him properly. And except when Dad tells you to use it, you must never use poison carelessly, understand?”
—Churr! Churr!
If she melted Shintu with poison it would become a major incident in the murim. I drilled the warning into Cho thoroughly, then checked whether Yo-hwa had finished the task I had given her.
“Yo-hwa, is everything ready? Have you laid it all out?”
—Kishi!
What I had asked of Yo-hwa was to lay spider silk densely everywhere—not only on the ground but carefully hidden across the roofs of the halls as well. According to Grandfather, Shintu’s martial arts consisted of light-footwork that left neither shadow nor sound, and body techniques so fast the eye could not follow. Even Grandfather said that once it was unleashed one could lose track of it in an instant. But no matter how swift the light-footwork, the feet still had to touch something. We would use the silk to detect the thief.
“Yo-hwa’s ready too. Then the last is Yeondu. Yeondu, you stay wrapped tightly around Oppa’s body, and if Oppa is ever in danger you bite properly, okay?”
—Shaa!
Hyang and the other children had strong toxins, so if poison had to be used, the anesthetic venom of Yeondu or Yo-hwa was ideal. But Yo-hwa had assumed human form and would therefore be watched carefully; the final defense fell to Yeondu, who could coil around my body and hide.
Once the three main pieces were checked, Hwa-eun nodded and spoke.
“So-ryong, shall we review one last time?”
“Yes, Hwa-eun.”
“First: when So-ryong is inside Yo-hwa’s house, he tells Hyang whatever Yo-hwa senses. Hyang stays with me and reports the direction from which Shintu appears. Meanwhile the warriors move, and Cho finds Shintu from the sky and follows him. That’s the first layer.”
“Correct.”
“It would be best if we catch him there, but if Shintu slips free of Yo-hwa’s threads and Cho’s sight, So-ryong takes refuge in the Golden-Haired Bee King’s house. Seol and Bing guard the courtyard and engage Shintu. If those two are breached and Shintu enters the hollow tree, the Golden-Haired Bee Kings seal the entrance and capture him. And if, by some chance, he gets past the Bee Kings and lays a hand on So-ryong’s body, Yeondu springs out and bites him into paralysis.”
That was the skeleton of our plan. When Hwa-eun finished, Mandok Singun Grandfather and my father-in-law both smiled.
“Even Shintu will be caught for certain with that much. Hahaha.”
“Think carefully about what your three wishes will be, son-in-law.”
Then Mother-in-law’s worried voice came from the side.
“But I think Hyang might be a bit of a problem.”
Everyone looked toward her. In the center of the twelve sheets of paper laid out on the round table, Hyang was trembling her antennae and making soft distressed sounds. She still did not seem to have the times fully memorized.
“Still not getting it?”
At my question, Mother-in-law—who had confidently volunteered to teach Hyang because she had experience with Hwa-eun—gave an awkward smile and spoke to the little one.
“Hyang, Zi Hour!”
Hyang glanced at Mother-in-law’s face, then stealthily crawled over toward Si Hour.
—Churr?
She looked at us as if to ask whether she was right and made a soft crying sound. When no one confirmed that she was correct, her antennae drooped and she moved toward Yin Hour instead.
—Chu… churr?
Gyaaah.
The utterly adorable behavior melted a father’s heart, yet Mother seemed a rather greedy woman. Hwa-eun stroked Hyang and said gently,
“Hyang, if you take after Mommy, our Hyang can do it well too. Everyone starts like this. Come on, try again. That place is Yin Hour.”
The reason Hyang was memorizing the twelve hours was so she could report directions to Hwa-eun. If everyone gathered in one place to give orders it would be too easy for Shintu to pinpoint my location. So we would stay separated; Yo-hwa would sense the direction, and through telepathy with Hyang we would divide it into the twelve directions and inform Hwa-eun.
Until evening fell, the sad little sounds of Hyang trying to memorize the twelve hours continued without pause.
—Chu… churr?